tagCelebrities & Fan FictionNightmare of Silent Hill Entry 02

Nightmare of Silent Hill Entry 02


First, I would like to thank all the fans of the series for being so patient .I hope it doesn't disappoint. I promise the third entry won't take so long. I have also done light editing on the first installment for some detail clarification. Second, as a warning, this segment has some harsh and even disgusting material in it. If you are opposed to rape and the like, I recommend you read tentatively. Older Alessa and Zoë are about 18-19 years old and so the Elementary School from the first game has been changed to a high school to reflect this. Third, Lord Raven wrote the Piano Puzzle Poem, for the series under permission and his work is mostly unpublished. So praise and love be to him. Fourth, thanks to my editor Josh for his undying support and harsh cynicism. Read on and enjoy, Kileka.

Ties of the Tormented

"'How will I find this house?' That is my first thought as I wandered Nathan Street. I clutched my flagpole with shaking, sweaty palms, keeping it ready for more of those monsters. I took a moment to check my maps. Unfamiliar with them, it took me a few moments to realize I was on the wrong side of the lake. Being in South Vale where the Historical Society was, when I wanted to be in Old Silent Hill, which was on the north side. I memorized that I had to follow Nathan Street up the west side to Sanford St. Once I got there, which estimating its distance at about a mile, which would take me awhile, I'd check my maps again.

I trudged along, my nerves heightened as though I was waiting for something to come out and eat me. I eventually made my way to Sanford St. Amazingly; I wasn't attacked once in my march there. I checked my maps again, remembering to pass Lakeside Amusement Park to Midwich St. Another long trek through the foggy streets pushed my nerves. 'Great, I'm in a strange town all alone with a bunch of monsters that want to kill me.' Then, an awkward tingle brushed its way up my spinal cord to my brain. I slowly looked to my right, stopping my walk. I saw the rusting gates and tattered sign of Lakeside Amusement Park. My head started aching immediately once I saw the sign. A vision flooded my eyesight forcing me to live it.

I was on the tracks of an old wooden roller coaster at the boarding area. All the little gates were locked into place. So I moved down the coaster, looking for a place short enough to jump off. Then I heard a loud screeching noise coming from the tracks. I looked that way curiously, trying to figure out what the sound was. Bright lights blinded me as I realized it was one of the coasters cars. I screamed as it headed for me at a heart-stopping speed.

My eyes flew open. I was standing in front of the amusement park once again, my heart racing and sweating. I reminded myself to never go in there and kept moving. I eventually made my way to Midwich St. and turned. I checked the map one last time to remind myself to head up Midwich, turn right on Matheson, and finally left on Levin St.

I kept moving until I heard a guttural growl come from behind me. I slowly turned around, re-clutching my flagpole. A figure low to the ground appeared from the fog. It slightly resembled a dog, but had two heads. It was the same rotting off-color as the other thing I had faced. It barked a sound that was a cross between normal and ethereal. The pain in my head was faint but noticeable. There were no voices this time. It lunged at me, but I blocked it clumsily with my flagpole. It circled me, running, and I remained where I was, keeping my eyes on it. It lunged again, but this time I was ready. I hit it downward, with purpose, making it hit the ground with a thud. I repeatedly beat it, with a fierceness I never knew I possessed. It twitched a few times than bled out. I shivered than kept moving. 'God, what are these things?'

Walking down Levin St. was like a memory of the suburbia that I grew up. Neat little houses, in bright paint with white trim lined the street. It looked so perfect but I still had my guard up. I made it up the street halfway, and then my head started aching. It was starting to hurt less. Another vision flooded my brain shrouding the blue house I was looking at. A black sky morphed the house into a rusted, diseased version of itself. Screams and cries made my ears ring. A wave of blood came gushing out the door, drowning me in it.

I startled, staring at the house in front of me. 'Well, This is definitely the right house.' I walked up the paved walkway to the steps. There were bloody handprints on the door. 'I hope it isn't locked.' I tried the doorknob and the door squealed open. I took a step into a narrow hallway. Other than degrading from lack of care, the inside looked as though a normal person lived there. It made me uneasy. 'What if someone still does?' I walked further, not seeing anything unusual. All of the sudden a figure out of the corner of my eye caused me to jump two feet back. Then to my utter embarrassment, I realized it was a mirror. I rolled my eyes and realized I hadn't seen myself since I got here. My straight black hair was astray and the circles under my eyes seemed more pronounced than usual. My eyes were wide and suspicious. I looked like a stoner. My black shirt was covered in dried black bloodstains. So were my jeans. 'Why did I wear this shirt?' It rode up as I lifted my arms, revealing my sunken-in stomach and hipbones. 'I'm glad I brought my red long jacket.' I tried to fix my hair.

After failing, the voices started. ...So hungry... I spun around to see an old, crinkly man. I blinked, confused, and he turned into the same monster as in the Historical Society. It bucked as though preparing to squirt acid at me. Black fluid sprayed out of it and I rolled out of the way. I realized I had left my flagpole at the mirror. 'Shit' Then, I spotted a skillet on the counter. It was one of those huge, square ones. I snatched it and charged the monster. I swung hitting it from above. Its head caved in, spraying the mirror and me with blood then it fell over, twitched and bled. Now as I analyzed it on the floor, it kind of looked like it was wearing a straightjacket. Adding some of my morbid humor to the situation, I decided to call it a straightjacket figure. I went to the kitchen sink and washed my face and my hair a little. I wiped off the skillet and put it in my backpack. Then, I spotted a white note on the dining room table. I went over, picked it up, and read it.

The only thing that bothers me is the girl that keeps appearing. She looks like Cheryl but older. She has short, black hair and is always in a school uniform. Who is she? What does she have to do with anything? What does she want from me? She's leading me to the high school. Maybe Cheryl's there. I pray she is okay.


Now, that I thought about it, the little girl in my dream was wearing a school uniform. She looked young, though. And she had long white hair. I pulled out my map, locating the high school. 'It isn't far from here. Actually, I passed it on the way up here.' Hope flooded my mind. 'Maybe someone else is here.' I ran out the front door, with fresh vigor in my heart and legs.

That vigor faded when I looked at the broken down, boarded up, high school. The brick was fading and crumbling, and almost all the glass had been replaced by wood. The name Silent Hill High School hung like a reminder of this awful place. I faltered, but then I saw the smiling little girl and this mysterious Harry. 'I can do this.'

I approached the doors and pushed the doors open with a loud creak. I stepped into a Lobby, the doors closing behind me with a loud clang. Inside was much darker, forcing me to get my flashlight out of my backpack and put it in my jacket pocket. The wallpaper was peeling, the benches unused and everything was covered in a fine layer of dust inside. I stepped forward hesitantly, realizing I was at a disadvantage inside. I didn't see anything of interest in the lobby so I moved through the heavy doors to the hall.

I was startled by an illusion of blue tiles floors and pasty white walls. The doors were brown and the lockers were yellow. I was in a dome like walkway. Teenagers filled the place, chatting. The vision faded, leaving a throbbing in my head and a sense of familiarity.

I heard the voices again ......accept me...love me...envy me... only to get kicked in the chest. I landed on the floor, dazed, and I looked up at the culprit. It was an ugly thing, like two sets of legs on top of each other to form a body. It had the similar rotting, unreal look as the other two monsters. It lashed at me again. I got up and moved to the side, skillet in hand. I swiped at it hitting one of its top legs. It moved back allowing me to drop my skillet and grab my flagpole. I caught my breath and charged it, impaling it in the midsection. Black blood covered my weapon and the floor as I removed the end of the pole from its corpse. I used my foot, prying it off. It oddly reminded me of a mannequin. 'Obviously, the flagpole is a little more efficient.'

I moved down the hall to my right, checking doors. Most of them were locked, all except one. The door read Infirmary, and the door opened. My vision was assaulted again by a picture of a younger me sitting on the bed. A nurse dressed in a t-shirt and jeans was tending to my split lip. I looked upset, like I was going to cry but also angry. The room was bright in neutral colors. The nurse quietly said finishing my lip, "What are we going to do with you, Zo? I see you at least every month." I said nothing. As the room darkens to the moldy, dusty thing I actually was in, I remembered. I was a freshman and had just gotten beaten up by a group of girls. 'Bitches. I would of beat the shit out of them, too, if a teacher hadn't interfered.' I wasn't very popular in school. I realized reminiscing could get me killed and checked the room. There was a stained day bed and a moldy wooden desk. A decaying medicine cabinet held a first aid kit, which I thought would be useful so I took it.

I left the infirmary and go out the set of double doors to the right hallway. Everything was quiet and pitch black outside the radius of my flashlight. I started checking doors again, only to realize that the first classroom door was unlocked.

I entered, but not into the classroom but into my own English class in high school. All of my peers were sitting at wooden desks, chatting and goofing around. Bright daylight was peering through the windows reflecting off the white boards and papers on the bulletin board. The teacher was late. One of the bullies and football players of my school, Brad, stood up. Over six feet tall and wearing his letterman's jacket, he was the symbol of macho. He had short, blond hair and a smirk on his face. I went to defend myself with my flagpole, when I realized I looked exactly like I did that day. No weapons, no flashlight, just my backpack and a sweater. He said in a loud mocking voice, "Well if it isn't Zoe the bird, who never eats and never sleeps. Are you an alien or a vampire, Zoe?" He grabbed the front of my shirt as the rest of the class laughed. The only person not laughing was the cute city boy in the corner.

'Thank gods that I'm in college now.' Getting kicked in the chin abruptly awakened me. I landed on my butt looking up at the mannequin in front of me. Using the leverage of getting up, I landed on it flagpole forward. It smelled like rot and fresh blood as I pierced its midsection. I pulled my flagpole out of its dying frame and kicked the thing. My adrenaline was doing double time as I tried to calm myself. 'The next time a vision gets me hit, I'm going to fuckin kill somebody.'

I went back to the hallway with caution in mind and checked the rest of the doors in the hallway. All of them were locked so my only option was to go upstairs. I headed back that way and ascended the stairs. I kept my weapon in front of me, just in case something jumped me. 'I'm really starting to get paranoid,' I think to myself as I peek around the corner. Nothing jumps at me as I check the set of double doors. They open up to a better-lit front hallway. I check the doors in order, all being locked or broken until the door that read Music Room. I hesitate, remembering that I was in band in high school. 'I love playing the piano. It is one of the few passions I still have.' I shake my head and enter.

The door opens up to my own band room in high school. There are mirrors along the walls and rich brown carpet. This was the piano room. The lights were shaded, not the bright halogen things of the rest of the school. There were metal chairs and music stands in the corner. The decor did shock me but the individual sitting at the piano shocked me more. My memory took hold as a nervous feeling filled my gut and throat. It was the same city boy who didn't laugh during class. He had spiked short black hair and was fair. He always wore graphic t-shirts and beat up jeans. His eyes were kind and bright forest green. They had a piercing quality about them, making them seem like he could see all my secrets and lies. His name was Kyle and he had made some attempts to talk to me. I suppose I had some sort of crush on him considering my physical reactions to him. He had a black metal guitar in his lap. He was tuning it, pressing a key on the piano, strumming the guitar and adjusting a tuning knob. I recognized the order of the piano keys he hit, E, A, D, G, B. I shuffled noticeably before he had a chance to hit his high E. He turned around slowly, his eyebrows going up at the sight of me. I became extremely self-conscience at the sight of his eyes. I tugged at the bottom of my shirt and bit my bottom lip.

He stood, facing me, "Zoe, right?"

" Yeah. You're Kyle?" I responded managing to keep my tone even. I walk over to the piano and caress the keys.

"Yup. Piano your weapon of choice?" I wasn't familiar with his way of putting it but was truthful nonetheless.

"Yes, I suppose. Where are you from, since obviously you aren't from around here?"

"Chicago. I was born and raised there. I take it you're from here."

"Yeah, good ol' Virginia. Guitar your 'weapon' of choice."

"Yep, among other things." The last statement was said monotone, but my cheeks went red anyway. He noticed and laughed under his breath.

That particular vision was long and disorientated me for a second. He was my boyfriend when I left Virginia. I told him I was going on vacation, though I didn't tell him where or why. 'I wish I had now...' The room was very different in real life. There was still a piano but it was old and dusty. All the mirrors were broken and the carpet was shredded in places. Something caught my attention on the piano. I walked over and looked at it.

Heartstrings pulled,
the harmony sounds,
Where the melody reigns,
true love can be found,
Pluck thy heart,
and sound the fourths,
Give way to the third,
and I will be yours,
Finish the scale,
let love be thy art,
The fourth is the fifth:
the key to my heart.

'Cute.' At first I was confused and had to read it again. Then, I realized what it meant. I also realized that you needed to know music to get it. 'It's like this place is interacting with me,' I thought. Logic says four from E is A, four from A is D, four from D is G, three from G is B and four from B is E. So on the piano, I hit A, D, G, B, and E. I heard a click from the wall behind the piano. I went over to investigate and there was a secret mini-door leading to the left hallway. I remembered the double doors being broken. I went out into the hallway and there was a gate blocking off the rest of the hallway except the restrooms. I rattled the gate but it was shut tight. I tried the boy's restroom but it was locked. Then, I heard strange cries coming from the girl's restroom. 'Finally, a person?' I moved closer and put my ear to the door. The cries were high-pitched and sounded unfamiliar to my ear. I worked up all my courage and entered.

Another vision hit me. However, this one was unlike the others. I wasn't myself. My hair was short and black. I was a little chubbier but my breasts were smaller. My face was ruddy, as though I had been crying. She seemed younger than me but not by more than a few months. She looked much younger than she felt. She was sitting on a bench in the middle of the bathroom. The bathroom's tile was white with porcelain sinks and scratched up mirrors. The stalls were a faded pastel green. My mind reeled at the thought of being another person so I didn't try to move.

Just then, a man I didn't recognize entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him. My suspicion went through the roof as fear filled my belly. The body I was in recognized the man, which was apparent from the nervousness that wasn't my own. He turned around. He was middle-aged with blond hair and blue eyes. He was free of facial hair but had the start of wrinkles around his eyes and gray in his hair. He was of medium build with large hands and feet. He was wearing a janitor's shirt with faded blue jeans. He looked transfixed as he approached me, with a wild look in his eyes. Reflexively, I moved away from him.

He rubbed his hands together with a wide grin on his face. All of the sudden, he jumped at me. He landed awkwardly on top of me, grinding my tailbone painfully into the bench. He cupped his hand over my mouth. I wiggled and struggled under him but he overpowered me, pinning me down. He dragged me to the floor, dragging my skirt up and putting me on my back. I kept wiggling until he pulled a pocketknife from his boot. He pushed it against my neck. The blade bit into my flesh, drawing droplets of blood. I silenced immediately.

He removed the blade and sat on my face. My lips stuck to my teeth and I could barely breath under his weight. He put my wrists together over my head and pulled something out of his pocket. I felt the rough twine mar my wrist as he tightly bound them together. He wrapped the twine many times around and between my wrists. He tightly tied them off and scooted down. He put the knife back against my throat and licked my cheek. I cringed as his unoccupied hand tore the buttons off my uniform shirt. He used the knife to cut my front bra strap and ogled my breasts. He touched them gingerly at first then squeezed them hard. He put the knife down and looked at me quizzically. He then pulled out a roll of duct tape and cut off a large piece. I struggled harder as he pasted the tape to my mouth.

I heard a "humph" come from him as he refocused on my bare chest. He started by pinching and twisting my nipples, as his rough hands scraped at my tender flesh. My face contorted in pain and I screamed under the tape. To my horror, I felt wetness seep from my insides. My body became heated, confessing to my enjoyment of the torture. His tongue grazed one of my nipples as his hand fiddled with the other one. He sucked and nipped at that nipple causing my want to inflate double-fold. He moved down, tearing at my skirt. He got it off and giggled at the sight of my girlie panties. I tensed my legs as he spread them. He caressed the wet spot on my panties with a finger. Without effort, he tore them off. He lazily gazed at my genitals.

"You're a virgin, aren't you Alessa?" he asked, reminding me whose body it was. I didn't move my head and honestly I didn't know. I prayed she wasn't. "Let's see," he said as he moved his head down. His tongue slid along my slit. He got a weird look on his face as he spread my pussy lips. He put a single finger inside me, producing a squelch and a moan. He got a contented look on his face as he said, "Ah, the beauty of a tight cunt. Even if you aren't a virgin, you're tight enough to suffice." I squirmed, as tears welled in my eyes. He slowly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his cock. It was about six inches long and about one inch wide, pretty average for a man his age. It was throbbing and red at the head. He held my legs down as he got in position. He let go as he tore into me. I felt like he was ripping me in half as his cock thrummed inside me. My pussy squelched and squealed in protest to the havoc his cock was wreaking inside me. Slowly the pain dulled away to the pleasure of friction. It did not take the man long as after only a few minutes, he lurched forward and gasped. I felt his meat expand and contract as hot fluid filled my crevice. Perspiration lined his forehead as he gasped for air.

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byKileka© 4 comments/ 14830 views/ 1 favorites

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